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No one went in there except Roger, which made it the perfect hiding spot.
Unfortunately, Kris hadn’t found anything of the Stepmonster’s. She had, however, stumbled on—irony of all ironies—a contract her father had drawn up, stipulating Nate would receive $50,000 upon the termination of his relationship with Kris. Date of contract: the night of the dinner party, aka the night before Nate broke up with her.
Kris had been too shocked and devastated to check if Nate’s signature had been on the document, but the timing had aligned perfectly. When she’d went to his house that morning, she’d known how much his father offered him, but she wanted to hear him say it. Wanted him to admit how much he thought their relationship was worth.
Funny. A Carrera contract had started it all…and a Carrera contract had ended it all, or so she thought.
I swear on my mother’s grave that I didn’t accept a cent from him, but some of the things he said…made sense. Like how we’re from different worlds, and how we don’t fit.
Kris squeezed her eyes shut, to no avail. Memories of Nate’s voice, face, and presence consumed her, so vivid he might as well be standing before her. She could even smell—
Her eyes popped open.
Nope, that delicious scent hadn’t been her imagination. Nate was really here, his big body blocking the sun, his face cast in shadow. Then he stepped forward, and she could see his red-rimmed eyes and tense jaw.
“You’re here.” Relief drenched his features, brightening his otherwise weary expression.
Kris tensed. “How’d you find me?”
“Educated guess. During our night on the boat, you mentioned how much you liked being by the water and how it calmed you. I went to the slip first, but you weren’t there, so I kind of just walked around until I found you.”
“You walked around the entire harbor until you found me? What if I hadn’t been here?” Kris asked, disbelieving.
A sheepish shrug. “Then I would’ve wasted a lot of time. But I had a sense you were here. And you are. Guess the soul knows what it’s doing.”
“What?”
“Never mind.” Red stained Nate’s cheeks.
She shook her head. “Whatever. I told you back at the house that—”
“You love me.”
Her cheeks flushed to match his. “No, I said I was done. And I meant it.”
“Yes, but you also said you love me.”
Grrr. He was insufferable.
“It doesn’t matter.” Kris scrambled to her feet, a wave of dizziness overtaking her at the sudden movement. She paused and blinked away the wooziness before continuing, “We’re already broken up, remember? We’re not the ‘right fit.’ We’re H&M and Hermès. Gap and Gucci. Forever 21 and Fendi. You made your point. Now leave me alone.”
“No.”
She was this close to tearing her hair out in frustration, but Kenji, her stylist in Seattle, would kill her.
“Then what the hell do you want?”
Nate looked her straight in the eye. “I want you.”
Hehadto be joking.
Don’t get excited, you floozy,she told her foolish, no-sense-of-self-preservation heart, which had perked up at Nate’s words like a golden retriever who’d spotted its owner for the first time after months apart.Or did you forget there are still pieces of you lying around L.A., courtesy of the jerk you love so much?
“Are you kidding me?” Kris planted her hands on her hips. “You gave your little ‘different worlds’ spiel just a few hours ago, and now you want me again? Make up your damn mind.”
“I’ve always wanted you.” Nate didn’t back down from the force of her fury, and a tiny seed of respect sprouted in her stomach. This was the man she’d fallen in love with. The one who gave as good as he got, who was kind and understanding but wouldn’t hesitate to call someone—aka her—out on their bullshit. “But I haven’t been totally honest about what happened with your father.”
The opening salvo of a migraine attack set in. Kris pinched her temple and reminded herself to take deep breaths.
